[He's a little lost in himself now, more than he had been before. The disconnect that he's found within himself is something that he wants desperately to bridge, because his descent into madness in his first life had been so gradual that he hadn't really noticed it. Sure, he had some awareness. He knew he was a rotten person, he knew that the things he was doing weren't good things, but it had been difficult for him to pinpoint just when or why or how he had come to resent and hate his most precious person so much.

Looking back on it now, it's much easier to watch. With shaking fingers, he reaches up to touch the back of Chizuru's hands, trying to get her to ease up on the tugging. it's a familiar gesture, and he doesn't want to see it on her. Another sign that he had failed, he had irreparably failed her. Can he even call himself an older brother?]

The me of that time... [Was better off buried, honestly, but even his shaky mind realizes that saying so aloud would be cruel to Chizuru, further invalidating everything she's sacrificed to reach this point.]

...I— I never really resented you. It was hard for you... I understood that. I did... It wasn't your fault that you forgot. I knew that. When you were carried away from that building, I was happy... I just wanted you to be able to stop crying. You always cried so much, and I was— upset... I wanted to be there to wipe your tears away.

[But days had become weeks, then months, then years. Every little doubt he had held about himself and his life had been found and torn open by the people housing him until he was convinced that his own parents had never loved him, until just the thought of Chizuru living a happy life in blissful ignorance was enough to make him white-hot with rage.]

—I never told you, but I loved you, still. I just wanted to be together with you again. [And it manifested in the most gruesome way possible.]